


Things Friends Don't Do

by allouette



Category: The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5193071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allouette/pseuds/allouette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I really shouldn't drink around you</i>
  <br/>
  <i>It's a risk, it's a gamble</i>
  <br/>
  <i>A little more than I can handle</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
Almost, but not quite, songfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Friends Don't Do

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hi hello, have some filth on this glorious Shevine filled day.
> 
> Title and inspiration from I Really Shouldn't Drink Around You. Thank god and Blake Shelton for that song, seriously.
> 
> Thanks as always to Sandra for the beta.

One of these days, Adam will learn not to drink with Blake.

Nothing good this way comes.

Danger, Will Robinson.

Adam knows this, knows it all too well.

And yet.

Ass in the air, face pressed into the mattress, tears soaking into the sheets - he has never felt less dignified.

He’s also never had to chase an orgasm for this long either, and he would love to punch Blake in the face if he had any kind of higher functionality left in his body. As it is all he can really do is sweat and groan and _throb_ , hoping that _this time_ Blake won’t back off before he gets to come.

Son of a bitch.

It’s like Blake has built up some kind of crazy resistance to alcohol which makes him entirely too keyed-up and obviously in the mood to make this last _for-fucking-ever_. 

Or maybe Blake wasn’t drinking alcohol at all, maybe it was all a big game, get Adam a little liquored up and right where Blake wants him and then _bam_ , fucked into oblivion.

There’s a good chance Adam might be getting a little delirious. Booze and intense pleasure can do that to a person.

He can feel Blake shift behind him, big, hot hands smoothing over the curve of his ass, and all Adam can think, all he can hear in his head is a steady chant of inside, inside, _inside_. He gets his wish when one of Blake’s thumbs circles the rim of his hole, and it makes him moan into the sheets, overly sensitive from being used by Blake’s fingers, his cock. His thumb presses into Adam’s body easily, his resistance long gone at this point, and the stretch comes when Blake’s other thumb slides in to join the first. Adam keens because it’s good but not enough, not even close, and he’s shameless as he presses back against Blake’s hands.

“Look at you,” Blake says, his voice a thick rumble, breath ghosting over the small of Adam’s back.

“Fuck you,” Adam spits out over his shoulder, then he’s choking on his next breath when he feels the hot, wet swipe of Blake’s tongue right there where Blake’s thumbs are holding him open. A shiver runs through his entire body and he claws at the sheets, his cock leaking between his legs and begging to be touched. “Fucking _christ_ , Blake. Fuck, _please_.”

He feels Blake hum, all smug and satisfied before he's pulling back and away, settling back on his knees. With a hand on one hip, an arm slipping around Adam’s waist, Adam gets manhandled until he is positioned right where Blake wants him – directly over Blake’s lap with his back to Blake’s chest, and he can do nothing about the deep groan he lets out as he sinks down onto Blake’s cock. They’re still once he’s fully seated, one long arm wrapped around his chest, and Adam swears he can feel the thick, solid heat of Blake’s dick pulsing all the way up to his throat.

The position doesn’t leave much for thrusting, but Blake seems just fine with that, content to take a moment and just breathe. Adam, however, doesn’t see the goddamn point at a time like this, and he’s close to reaching back and knocking some sense into the enormous jackass, demanding that he fucking _do something_ already.

“Why are you being such a— _oh god_ ,” Adam groans, nearly doubling over when Blake’s hand wraps around his cock. The arm around his chest keeps him upright, but it does nothing to help the clench in his stomach, the jerk of his hips that follows the first agonizingly slow stroke of Blake’s hand.

“I got you,” Blake murmurs, his mouth grazing along the back of Adam’s neck.

“No, you fucking _don’t_ got me, you’re being the fucking _worst_ , I swear to god,” Adam snaps, and Blake chuckles, fucking _chuckles_ behind him, like this is all so amusing to him, like it’s funny that he’s literally driving Adam out of his goddamn mind.

Adam doesn’t know why that is even vaguely surprising.

“I can let go, if you want,” Blake says and tightens his grip just slightly, his hand gliding easily along the length of Adam’s cock, rock hard and leaking from the tip.

Adam reaches back with one hand, tangles his fingers in Blake’s hair and grips it tight, just this side of painful. “I will murder you.”

If there was a time that Adam ever truly meant those words, this would be it.

There’s a shift in Blake’s hips, a nice little rock that steals Adam’s breath, and he has no idea how Blake can even stand it but he grinds back on his lap, can’t miss the slight hitch in Blake’s own breathing. _Point taken_. Beads of sweat slide down his back where the heat radiates between them, and Adam feels like he’s burning up everywhere, Blake’s hand its own special brand of hot as it speeds up on Adam’s dick. 

“ _Fuck yeah_ ,” he breathes out, his back arching, head resting back against Blake’s shoulder.

“Good?” Blake asks, breath hot against Adam’s ear, pressing a kiss just behind it. His thumb sweeps over the head of Adam’s cock, smearing the slick flow of precome that’s almost steady now.

“’S long as you don’t stop again.”

Blake just hums again, and Adam doesn’t like the sound of it, not at all, not when he’s right there toeing the edge again. He can practically taste it this time, his balls tight and aching with it, and he’ll gladly cry again if Blake keeps going, lets it happen, just a couple more quick strokes, the twist of Blake’s wrist and--

“ _Fuck_!”

Adam lets out a shout as Blake closes a tight fist around the base of his dick, and that’s it, he’s cut off, he can’t come. Again.

There are tears swimming in his eyes with how much he simply can’t stand this anymore, his whole body thrumming with pure need, an ache he’s sure he has never felt before in his life. He’s about to curse again, tugging at Blake’s hair, his other hand clawing at Blake’s thigh, when Blake tips him forward, sends him face first into the mattress. Blake follows him straight down, keeps that bastard of a hand snug on his dick, but now Blake is moving, fucking into him like he should have been doing all along, like this whole thing has finally driven him to the point of insanity too. 

And Adam _keens_.

It’s a needy, heartfelt sound torn directly from his throat by the pounding he’s taking. Every forward drive of Blake’s hips punches the air straight from Adam’s lungs, and all he can do is clutch at the sheets, squeeze his eyes closed and hope for the vice-like grip on his cock to loosen.

Because when it does, Adam is done for. Game over.

Every muscle in his body is pulled tight, a live wire ready to snap, and he croaks out Blake’s name – a plea, a prayer – and Blake returns the sentiment just before his teeth sink into the salty flesh of Adam’s shoulder. He barely registers that sudden, sharp spike of pain, his mind overcome with need and ecstasy, his focus pinpointed on Blake’s hand. It’s all he can feel, all he knows, so much that he misses the way Blake’s hips stutter and begin to slow, the shudder that runs through Blake’s body. 

What Adam doesn’t miss, can’t possibly miss, is the first twitch of Blake’s fingers. His breath seizes in anticipation, _desperation_ , and his dicks throbs, that ache making its way all the way to the pit of his stomach. There’s a split second where nothing else happens – Blake goes still after one last forceful push forward, and Adam wants to scream, a string of colorful curses right there on the tip of his tongue until all of a sudden Blake’s hand moves. 

It happens all at once: Blake’s grip loosens just enough, then he’s sliding his hand up along the length of Adam’s cock from base to tip, wide palm sweeping over the head.

Like that part is even necessary.

There’s some distant part of Adam’s brain that thinks he might yell, but he can’t really breathe and has a face full of the bed sheets, his vision quick to go white before it goes black and then he isn’t sure at all what exactly happens after that.

When he finally regains his senses, he’s still lying sprawled out on the bed, his body still sweat damp and oversensitive; the only difference is now the wire has finally been cut and every bit of tension has been drained from every single muscle in his body. He feels completely euphoric and punch-drunk in a way that borderlines on stupid because he’s pretty sure he’s drooling on the pillow but he’s also definitely sure he doesn’t give a damn. 

A slight shift and stretch of his legs tells him he’s not quite as gross as he’s expecting to feel after this particular brand of fuck but he’s deliciously sore already, muscles and ass aching in a way that’s only going to get worse before it gets better, something he’s probably going to be feeling for a couple of days. 

He’s pressing a satisfied smile into his pillow when Blake strolls out of the bathroom, and for a few seconds there, Adam forgot all about him. It’s stupid, he knows, but there’s a large part of his brain that hasn’t clicked back on yet, probably won’t any time soon, so all he can really do is stare through hooded eyes. Blake’s skin is still flushed, hair a curling mess; Adam’s eyes get stuck on the scratches on Blake’s thigh, peeking out from under the leg of his boxer briefs, and tries to remember doing that.

Then he idly wonders if Blake drugged him somehow. Seriously, what the fuck just happened?

It takes him a moment or two to realize that Blake is staring too, and when Adam catches his gaze, they get lost in that shared look. Adam isn’t entirely sure what Blake is seeing coming from him, he still feels pretty out of it, but Blake’s looking at him like he’s still hungry for more, gaze a little dark and more than heated as he takes in the picture Adam makes stretched out on the bed. Then he blinks and there’s a ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth and he looks at Adam like… 

Like he just got everything he has ever wanted.

And Adam wonders if maybe he’s projecting, if that’s really what he’s seeing, if he’s a little too invested in the afterglow. Very possible.

“Dude. We really shouldn’t drink together anymore,” Adam says as Blake settles next to him, a towel laid out over the wet spot. His voice is a little slurred, and he’s pretty sure he just nuzzled the fuck out of his pillow, so the words don’t hold much weight but.

And it’s not even like this is the first time they have screwed around together. Not even close. But it’s definitely the first time it has been like _this_ , something more than quick handjobs or blowjobs that are never enough, making out and coming in their pants like teenagers, not even close to being enough, a quick fuck against this wall or that one after a party. During a party, once. Very bad idea.

“You think?” Blake asks.

No, it has most definitely never been like this before, but now that Adam knows it _can_ be… He looks at Blake and feels it right there in his chest, that something more that has always been bubbling there beneath the surface but never acknowledged. 

He doesn’t know what to do with it, not right now, so he files it away for later and gives himself up to a pleasant haze of fatigue and pure bliss.


End file.
